Dan Enache Poet Free verse

The Prayer That Snow From Incense to Milk Tears

The Prayer That Snows—From Incense to Milk Tears

Your prayer conjugates the verb that snows gently—incense from blood burns on altars,
Our white love went to be repainted—color spun in bones by old women,
Master crones weave poemspeaking when they talk and poemsilence when they're quiet,
Your lips have resonance power—their river revives the dead sea with words.

Your waves chatter like old women—your tresses are a storm that envelops me,
Your spirit thunders inside—northing and southing through your sacred geography,
Your diurnal skin cracks in patches slowly—paralightnings and parawhispers protect me,
Your milk tears flow white—old age is vaulted sunset over us.

Your life stands in sterile maidens—mourning between dying and undying we carry,
Famished for your bare thighs—I want to poison your hands and days gently,
Your fingers are lazingers—your arms are nectars—shivers that caress destiny,
The destiny of the heart sings the trill—vampires of blooming suck from blood incense.

Orchard bats fly through ardent departures—immortal present holy and hoary,
Of ordinary longing a frail guardian—our love's thought floats toward you,
The sculpted barefoot with belly as loss—decapitated ostriches wander through empty desert,
Decolorized devils guard the horns as icons—your prayer snows white over me.

Poemspeaking when I call you—poemsilence when I feel you—your lips resonate deep,
The river revives the dead sea—your diurnal skin cracks gently under paralightnings,
White milk tears flow—incense from blood burns—unpainted love remains,
Color spun in our bones by master crones—your prayer snows forever.

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